


Arriving on Korriban

by Affie



Series: Against the Tide [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games)
Genre: Freeform and Game Dialouge, Korriban, Run ins with the Sith Inquisitor, Sith Warrior Storyline (mostly), Trials
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 18:02:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20030035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Affie/pseuds/Affie
Summary: The eldest child of the dwindling Nazarien family has arrived on Korriban, despite not finishing his training. Tremel has plans for him, and it doesn't seem like it's going to end well.





	Arriving on Korriban

The shuttle flew overhead, crossing a vast, ruin scattered desert planet dubbed Korriban, the now decrepit homeworld of the Sith. Inside, sat a small group of mostly Human trainees and a single Mirialan woman, strapped by the neck with a cruelly tight shock collar. The group clumped together, aside from one man, in particular, being cut off by two Imperial Guardsmen.  
The man, despite sitting, seemed tall. He was fit, had pale skin, blue eyes, short, dirty blonde hair, and minimal facial hair. He was leaning forward with one elbow resting on his crossed leg, staring at the viewport across from him. He rubbed the scruff of his jaw and chin in a thoughtful manner. This is Korriban? It was an underwhelming pile of rubble, polluted with loads of hot sand, unevenly divided by rocky hills, unorganized tombs and death traps… Or, so he had heard before. The stories built it up to be something greater.  
Soon enough the shuttle descended onto the landing pad just outside of a base sitting on a tall, rocky formation. Sand billowed out from under and cleared the zone just before the props for the aircraft extended and landed on the pad. With an uneasy shudder, the engine cut and the ramp extended to the ground, allowing the passengers to exit.  
He stood from his seat, following behind the Mirialan. He could see the bulge of skin that bunched up over the top of the collar, digging into her skin each time she moved her head. He grimaced her, tearing away his stare before she noticed it. He finally stepped off the ramp, watching the obvious slave amble aimless to the far right of the base with the rest of the group. The two guards ushered him ahead with an impatient nudge.  
It was surprisingly cold and dry air pierced through his nostrils the moment he stepped foot outside. His shoulders tensed and he took a few steps forward as he just noticed an older man with dark skin and shallow features walking towards him. So, he lifted his head expectantly, locking eyes with him.  
“Jovan Nazarien? At last…” The man began. “You’ve arrived. Good… I’ve been expecting you.”  
“What exactly am I doing here? I’ve not even completed my training...” Jovan inquired cautiously as he approached.  
“You are here ahead of schedule because of me, and for that, I expect you to obey.” The man explained before shifting and crossing his arms behind his back. “I am Overseer Tremel. For decades, I’ve administered the trials that prove who is and is not worthy to join the Sith Order. The trials are a chance to weed out the weak. Those who face them either survive and become Sith… Or die.” Without warning, Tremel turned and began to head inside of the base directly behind him but gave a glance over his shoulder, making sure the acolyte followed.  
Jovan could already tell that he was in trouble. An undeniable feeling of foreboding lingered in the silence as they crossed over into the confines of the base. Tremel then turned to him, stoic and firm.  
“You face your trials, you serve me, and I will make you the most powerful acolyte here.” The Overseer’s eyes flicked over Jovan as he spoke.  
“Apologies, Overseer… But I’m skeptical.”  
“It is important to have a critical edge, but recognize who is on your side.” Tremel sounded convinced about this. Whatever he hoped to gain was still unclear to Jovan… “The trials themselves are difficult enough, but they are hardly the greatest threat you face… There is an acolyte here named Vemrin. He’s your enemy, and he will try to kill you. We must prepare.” He pounded his fist against his open palm to exaggerate his point.  
“I’ve just stepped foot here and already I have an enemy?” Jovan asked with obvious concern on his face.  
“It is no secret that your family’s bloodline has always had a strong affinity with the Force. For the last few generations, they have been loyal to the Sith Empire. You, in particular, have shown unmatched ability. Even your traitorous sister has potential, but like all Jedi, she is the enemy and shall be treated as such.”  
Jovan felt quite struck by the Overseer’s comments. He was taken aback and gave the man an unamused look, but he knew it would be unwise to backtalk. “Just… Tell me what to do…”  
“All you need to know is that you are a threat to Vemrin, and he to you. We’ll make sure you can stand up to that threat… But that practice sword you’ve arrived with is insufficient; the blade of lesser acolytes. You need a dominating weapon.” Tremel gestured over Jovan’s shoulder. “In the tomb of Ajunta Pall, there’s an old armory. A strong Sith warblade awaits you there… But be wary. The tomb is thick with K’lor’slugs; deadly, savage creatures. Be speedy but careful. They’ve been the end of many an acolyte.”  
Tremel turned, just extending his arm towards the exit. “Once you acquire the warblade, I suggest you spend some time in the tomb bloodying it. Then come to me in my chambers in the Academy.”  
He didn’t bother continuing. Instead, he took his leave and left Jovan to the task at hand. 

Heading out the direction that the Overseer had pointed out, Jovan took his first few steps through the small lading port and exited out to the first tomb entrance, dedicated to the Sith Lord, Ajunta Pall, who was once also a Master of the Jedi Order.  
He walked across the scaffolding overlooking the small courtyard just outside the dim-lit tomb entrance, scanning over several K’lor’slugs… Disgusting and vile creatures that prey on anything that comes near enough. As Tremel mentioned before, many acolytes have met their end to these things and their bones still lay beneath the sand that had blown over their mutilated remains. It had to be a pitiful end, but still gruesome with a circular maw filled with rings of razor sharp teeth, and dangerously sharp legs... His eyes scanned further across the sand-laden yard, a couple of other acolytes running to safety into the tomb.   
With a small sigh, he pushed himself off the railing and made his way down the ramp. He drew his training saber from his back and started to step carefully across the sand. Most of the nearby slugs were just basking quietly in the beating sun, too occupied to notice as he passed by… Until he reached the entrance. A couple of the slugs lifted their ugly heads, screeching a warning at him, until charging his way.  
Jovan took his stance, a much-preferred form of Juyo, a heavily offensive stance that utilized bold and direct movements. It was one of the most common among Sith combatants.  
He leaped to the side of the first charger, easily swiping off one of its slicing appendages. He then swung his body around, kicking the head of the next one as it dared to follow after its companion. Both squirmed to regain their footing, still screeching and gurgling. He stepped aside, pointing the tip of his blade at them and slowly circled around them. Once they charged again, he swiftly dodged and swung his blade, bisecting the first. As it’s corpse collapsed into its two parts, the second slug turned without hesitation and began to feed on its former companion.  
Jovan took the opportunity to take his leave. He sheathed his training blade and headed into Ajunta Pall’s tomb.  
He descended a pitch-black set of stairs, before emerging into a torch-lit cavern, barricaded by Imperial troopers and younger Sith that had already passed their trials.   
Beyond the barricade, he saw a few other acolytes like himself scurrying about, avoiding the K’lor’Slugs in their way. There were some fresh, half-eaten corpses on the floor, already…   
Once again, he sighed, and continued forward, unsheathing his blade and made his way around a seemingly safe path.   
The stench of death and slugs grew nearly unbearable. They left their trails of slug everywhere and even some eggs were nested sloppily in the corners and around the legs of statues. The tomb was in horrible condition, but he doubts anyone actually cared.  
Along the way, his feet slipped, causing him to tumble forward, right into the arms of a small, young woman. They caught each other and she helped keep him on his feet with a firm grip on each arm. Once he felt balanced enough, he lifted his gaze from her chest to her eyes. Two exotic, purple orbs stared back at him, surrounded by geometrically tattooed, deep olive skin and a head of long, brown, braided hair… And that shock collar that gripped her neck.  
“I…” He began, pulling away from her grip. “I apologize.”  
She was clearly quite amused by him as her purple lips curled into a slight smile. “If I were a Slug, I’d have gobbled you up by now… I half expected you to attack me.”  
“The thought crossed my mind until I realized you weren’t a slimy abomination.” He replied, returning the smile.  
“Nonetheless, I am a rival acolyte…” She pointed out.  
He took a moment, glancing at her attire… It was the same plain gray training suit he had on.  
“Rival? I doubt we have the same task…” He said though he was sure they didn’t since Tremel made it clear that his reason of being on Korriban clearly was a secret.  
“Perhaps… I didn’t see you with Overseer Harkon… And you don’t have the scars like a slave…” She observed him, arms folded and her eyes narrowed. “Mmm, perhaps I won’t kill you then…”  
He snorted, “Kill me? Bold of you to assume you could.”  
She lifted her gaze, expression firm. Without blinking, she thrust both of her hands forward, each finger sparkling with electricity. He flinched, dodging to the side as purple and white streaks of lightning exploded from her fingertips and made quick work of a creeping Slug that managed to sneak up behind him.  
He stared at the charred corpse, eyes wide.  
“Now you owe me.” She commented before turning to take her leave.  
“I…” He croaked, but she was too far gone to hear by the time he managed to speak again. He looked around, quite embarrassed.   
After a few moments, he adjusted himself and continued forward, delving deeper into the tomb.

Passed all the looters, the Slugs and the other acolytes, Jovan found it relatively easy to carve his way through. He searched for his objective, until coming to a three-way split in the tomb’s tunnels, Two rooms that descended deeper and then a way to go further and closer to what he could only assume to be the exit. In the middle… A basin filled with skulls. Humanoid skulls.  
He felt his mind pulling straight ahead, to the center entrance. So, down he went, slowly making his way down the stairs, passing by a couple of tombs, housing what he saw to be ancient, rustic droids. The stairs gave way to a tall, open room, filled with more droids and by the furthest wall, against the center wall, was a weapon rack holding an old practice sword.  
He approached, studying the sword.   
It was covered in years worth of dust, peppered with spots of rust but still useable.   
Cautiously, he reached for the handle, curling each finger individually around the coarse leather wrappings. He then took it off the rack and held it upright, admiring the old but decent craftsmanship.

Cut short by the sudden whirring and distorted beeping of droids, Jovan whipped around, seeing all the droids in the tombs spark to life.   
They all stepped out of their webbed tombs and drew their guns, immediately targeting him.


End file.
